74th annual hunger games Glimmer's POV
by yeahimonteamjacobx
Summary: Glimmer, the sexy yet lethal tribute of District 1 is selected to compete in The Hunger Games. Once she arrives at the Capitol, she meets her match... only this tribute isn't female. What will she do when she finds herself falling for him?
1. Chapter 1

[Hey guys, just wondering, can you give this some reviews? I wanna know what you guys think of it. I was just fooling around and thought of doing something Hunger Games wise. It's just Glimmer's POV, but it's also a love story between Cato and her]

I'm being chased, and as in every dream, my feet can't make it quick enough to escape the terrible fate I'm about to undergo. I duck beneath branches and jump over ditches in long strides. Now, as I've become the prey, I think of every animal I've ever killed, and a solemn feeling washes over me. Is this how they feel? Mentally suffering, before physically suffering? It's an awful sentiment- and being human, the feeling only intensifies as time goes by. I can hear the footsteps of the predator on my heels, and now know, that my mental suffering will be over soon.

My eyes pop open, and my head jerks up quicker than the crack of a whip. I instantly regret that, because my head begins to throb. My messy blonde hair is matted in sweaty knots across my forehead, and my heart beats at an irregular pace. What a ghastly dream to match a ghastly day; The Reaping. Two tributes from each district are sent to the annual Hunger Games to compete in an all-out war-and only one of twenty-four return. I fear this day each year. Even provided with my training, even the fact that all my mentors tell me I'm the best girl out of all in my district suited for the games, I can never know if it'll be enough. I swing my legs over to the side of my bed, which is really a stack of hay, and rub my temple with two fingers. I try to appease my headache. To no avail, I sigh and walk to the kitchen, where my little brother Kain is watching me with big eyes.

"Are you ready? Why are you still undressed? Get dressed!" He exclaims.

Unlike every other citizen in District 1, my brother is _excited _for the Games. Since he began training for the first time last year, he finds nothing to do more exciting than that. I try to clarify to him how the slim the chances of _him _winning are, but he ignores me.

"I was just checking on you, Kain. I'll go get dressed now. Eat up," I say.

"Too excited to eat."

"Fool," I mutter too low for him to hear.

I lazily grab a piece of bread, sulking my way back to my room, procrastinating getting dressed for The Reaping. I can't eat. There is an uncomfortable, hollow feeling in my stomach, but I know that if I eat now, the nerves of today are just going to bring my food back up later. Once I enter my room, I look at myself in the cracked mirror that my brother once retrieved from the garbage cans he use to rummage through. All of my mentors, especially my mentor that specializes in style, tells me how beautiful I am. I have long, almost white blonde hair that cascades in waves to the middle of my back. I typically keep it tied up, since it's become so long. I have bright blue eyes, close to the color of the sky, that are framed by a thick forest of black lashes. My skin can never tan, but it's a pretty shade of white, almost like snow. My body is toned in every place, due to the training I undergo weekly. District 1 keeps it's eligible tributes in top shape.

I rummage through my drawers, looking for a specific dress my seamstress mother designed once so beautifully for me. I specifically wear it on special occasions, but since my mentors are so fussy about appearance if I'm chosen as a tribute, I have to wear it. I would wear everyday clothes to the stupid Reaping if it were up to me.

Once I find the dress, I have to stop and admire it. I'm awestruck, it is so beautiful. My mother was such a talented seamstress, she could design anything for anyone and make them look stunning. My mother's skills as a parent matched her designing skills. I could come to her for anything, and she'd always find the right thing to say. Four years ago, when Kain was just eight years old, she died of illness. I take another breif glance at myself in the mirror. The dress is tight, dark-red, and hugs my hips. It has a carefully sculpted neckline, but comes down to an appropriate point. It defines my body nicely, and compliments my blonde hair, like my mother use to tell me. I carefully put it on, adjust it ever so slightly, and saunter back to the kitchen where Kain awaits.

"Let's get this over with," I mumble.

"Looking good, sis!" He says. I try to shoot him a smile, but it only comes out as an awkward-looking grimace. He rolls his eyes.

"I wish you would try to be more enthusiastic about the Games," He mutters.

"Enthusiastic? About _children_ dying?" I hiss. I suddenly remember the Games two years ago, when a twelve year old was selected and tragically died of illness.

"You're representing your district. Besides, you don't have a say in it, and I think you'd be pretty damn good in the games, Glimmer."

"Yeah, whatever," I say. I'm in a bad mood already, I don't need to hear that I belong to such terrible events.

We walk without a word to the town square where the Reaping will be held. Cyra Finola is waiting on the stage, her face stretched into an overly-exaggerated smile. She is always too enthusiastic about the games. The sky has an unusual tint of gray to it, but the clothes of the citizen's of District 1 are colorful, inviting. They gather in heaps of small groups in front of the stage, whispering to themselves. My brother pushes me forward to be signed in first. He's always scared of drawing blood. It's somewhat ironic, because if he intends on being in the Games, he'll have to draw more blood than a simple prick on the finger.

"Glimmer Deaton," I say to the Capitol guard as he pricks my finger. This is for identification. Failure to arrive at The Reaping can result in harsh punishment, even death. My brother hesitantly does the same, but he instantly perks up once he walks past and spots his friends, each of them with matching, solemn expressions. I am convinced he is the only one out of twelve districts that is excited.

Once Kain spots his friends, I spot mine, huddled in a tight circle. There is Sirena, Nasya, Eli, Justus, Akia, and Midori. I approach them all, and each seem surprised at my arrive. They're all so vulnerable, anything can surprise them at this time. It saddens me to see my friends this way.

"Glimmer!" Sirena takes me into her arms, clutching me tightly against her. Sirena is not as lethal of a female as I am, but she can hold her own. She specializes in archery. I don't have a specialty like she does, fighting just comes to me, so I can master anything my mentors decide to throw at me. They think of it as a gift, I think of it as cruel.

"Glimmer! Well, look who's looking beautiful," Marvel says with a smirk, pushing past the group, making his way towards me. I move half a step back and dodge his open arms.

"Marvel, back off. I swear, this is life or death, and you're trying to make a move on me," I say disgustedly. The last person I want to be with in the games is Marvel. He's cocky, arrogant, and dumb. The only thing he relies on is his strength, and he thinks that if he _is _chosen, his strength will win him the Games. He is oblivious to the factor that you need intelligence to survive the brutal Hunger Games.

"I'm just being nice," He retorts, holding up his hands in a surrender. I roll my eyes and push him back to get to Eli, who is sheepishly excluding himself from us.

"Hey," I say. He doesn't respond. He only winds his arms around my waist, and takes me off guard by crushing me against his chest in a hug.

"Eli… can't… breathe…" I manage to choke out. He chuckles and loosens his grip, but still keeps me close.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a retched mood. I needed a hug, especially one from you," He murmurs. Eli has been my best friend since as long as I can remember. Although he's admitted in the past that he likes me as more than a friend, and I sadly don't share the feeling, I try to keep our bond close.

"Well you know I'm here. I'm every bit as scared as you are," I say back to him.

"Scared? The last thing I am of these foolish games is scared, the only thing I'm _scared _of is losing you. I would be ruined forever to lose you to these pointless games the capitol has created for "entertainment" purposes," He says firmly.

"Don't be scared for me, I can handle myself."

"Welcome, District 1, to the 75th annual Hunger Games!" Cyra Finola interrupts. Her high-pitched voice hurts my ears. Cameras start to flutter around the stage, some taking close-ups of the horrified faces of the citizens, but most focus on Cyra. It disgusts me on a number of levels that it seems the Capitol enjoys our fear.

"Here we go," Eli whispers. He holds my hand. I give it a tight squeeze.

"I'm sure you all know the drill. I will call out two names, a boy and a girl, to be sent to the Capitol to participate in the Games. Why don't I just end the suspense and choose. Hmmm.." Her squeaky voice trails off. Her hand swirls the bowl, filled with District 1's girls from twelve to eighteen. I don't realize how tightly I am clutching Eli's hand. My nails dig into his palm, but he doesn't seem to mind. Because he is every bit as nervous as I am. As any of us are.

"For the first girl… Glimmer Deaton!" She announces with another one of her too-happy smiles. My heart stops. My hand stops clutching Eli's. I can feel my whole body on the verge of convulsions. _I _was chosen? _Me? _The crowd roars into applause, all of them happy to be represented by such a lethal female in the Games. Each of my friends are the only ones that aren't clapping. Marvel isn't even responding. My body is still frozen in place. I try to move, but my body says otherwise.

"Well darling, come up," Cyra calls. To my relief , I avoid embarrassment, and I start to move. I pray I don't faint; I can feel the wobbliness in my footsetps. The crowd is still cheering for me, and I spot one of my mentors, Skyla, who is pointing to her smile, and is standing up straight. She wants me to mimic what she's doing. I don't know how I can smile, or laugh, or cry. I feel numb. But I try anyways, and flash the best smile I can. I purposely add gracefulness to my stride. My mentors are constantly reminding me that I have to display a confident image to the Capitol.

"GLIMMER!" A voice roars from behind. I see Eli, clutching frantically at the air in front of him while capitol guards hold him back. My brother tries as well, but he does not acheive. Eli is much stronger than him. He can handle two, or three Capitol guards, but at the moment they have six, trying to contain him. I race towards him. If I don't act soon, they might resort to tranquilizing him. I ignore the cameras. Each zoom in on Eli's frightened expression, my anxious eyes, and Kain's frantic arms.

"Stop it, Eli! Stop! _I'll be fine!" _I yell, trying to push him back as the guards do.

"You can do this, Glimmer! You're faster, and stronger than all of them! You'll come back!" He shouts, before the guards finally pull him away. I have no time to respond. Skyla is surveying me with a panicked expression. I shake the recent event off like nothing, and saunter back to the stage, hips swaying. I flash a charming smile at the cameras, deciding to blow a kiss as well. My mentors will take pride in me. For a second, I feel like Marvel. I hold back a shudder.

"Glimmer… you are extremely beautiful. Can you all give this young woman another round of applause?" Cyra beckons to the crowd while gesturing to me. The crowd hollers in approval, whistles and claps echo through my ears. Cyra has to quiet them down before selecting the male tribute.

"Alright, alright. Now to select our male tribute…" Her nimble fingers swirl around in the male bowl, her hand clamping onto a single piece of paper faster than a hummingbird's wings. She sighs in approval and announces: "Marvel Puller!"

I am ready to die now.


	2. Chapter 2

Marvel's robust face falters once his name is called, but he quickly recovers. The crowd erupts into another roar of cheers, and this drives the cocky Marvel to flash out, and he strolls to the stage. I am not sure if anyone else notices his eyes, but I can make out pools of fear lurking in each one. Marvel may come off as a confident person, but he is not immune to fear.

"Marvel!" Cyra says with delight, like she's greeting an old friend. And that may be the case.

"Cyra, such an honor to see you once again," He says, all charm. He enfolds his arms around her, and she looks like a tooth pic compared to Marvel. Once he releases her, I can see the subtle pink blush in her cheeks.

"Marvel, what a charm you are. Now, may I present to you, our tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games! What a perfect pair!" She exclaims. The crowd claps, and cheers for Marvel and I. They are extremely content with the choices. A deadly pair for a deadly game.

Marvel grips my hand in his, and thrusts our conjoined arms upwards, as if we've won a championship. And that's exactly how our mentors want the Capitol to see us as. Champions. I fight the urge to jerk away from him.

His face, as well as Cyra's, show nothing but happiness. Mine is an empty canvas.

"You two, follow me right this way," Cyra whispers to both of us. The crowd still cheers as we exit the stage, and Marvel is still holding my hand. The minute we are sheltered from the raging crowd, I rip my hand out of his. He raises a brow.

"What? You don't like me holding your hand?" He asks, mocking an innocent tone. I can tell he takes pleasure out of my frustration. I try to compose myself, but it's hard to keep calm when you're around someone like Marvel.

"No. Stay away from me," I speak through my teeth.

"Well, you better get use to it now, because there's a lot more where that came from…" He says in a liquid voice as he pulls a fallen strand of blonde hair out of my face. I jerk away from his touch, and all composure I've tried to achieve is dead.

"If you lay even a single _finger _on me while we're here, I won't wait until the Games to kill you," I growl.

Cyra has pretends she hasn't heard our conversation until now. She obtains each of my hands, as if she's afraid I won't be able to contain the violent side of me.

"Now now, dear. That won't be necessary. Actually, it won't be in the Games, either. The game-makers have changed the rules this year. _Two _tributes, no matter the district, can win. And I intend on both of you coming back in one piece," She says delightfully. Between the shock of being selected, and my outrage of Marvel's tranquility with all of this, I am a fuming mess of emotions.

"Tell him to lay off then!" I snap. I feel like a child, but I don't care.

"Now, sweet little Glimmer, you can't kill me in the Games. Which means I'll spare you… because, who would want such a pretty face gone? Such a waste. But try to control yourself, sweetheart. If this is what happens when you're angry, I'm going to have to win the Games for us, saving you while you're too flustered for your own good," Marvel says. My tolerance of him cracks, and my brain disconnects from my body. I move on impulse, my hands reaching for Marvel's throat while Cyra screams and tries to hold me back. She's a small lady, and I can get past her without difficulty. Right as I'm about to punch him in the face, a hand grips my arm rather tightly, pulling me back. I whip my head around and an exceptionally pretty woman. She's taller than me, has hazel eyes, and is looking directly at me. Her gaze isn't quite disapproving, but more curious of me.

"Whoa there, you're a feisty one, aren't 'cha? I'm going to like you a lot, Glimmer. But… for now, save all of this rage, and focus it on the Games when you're actually in the arena," She says with a chuckle.

"My apologies, this _fool _just knows how to push my buttons. I'm more in control of myself when I'm not faced with a bloodbath, and an _idiot _that's supposedly going to try and fight with me," I say sarcastically. I see Marvel roll his eyes.

"Well, once you both are in control, I'll give you the right training. With what I've seen of both of your fighting skills, we have a good shot at this. I forgot to properly introduce myself, I'm Cashmere, your mentor."

"I already have a mentor. Actually, I have three," I interjected.

"Yes, but those mentors train you on basic fighting. _I _am training you on how to actually _win_ the Games."

"Yes, yes. We can discuss this on the train, you both have to say your farewells," Cyra urges. Her tender hands push at our backs, guiding us to a room I've never noticed before, despite the few times I've actually been in the Town Hall.

I realize what these rooms are for. Suddenly, I become extremely anxious. If Eli's in one of those rooms, how am I suppose to part from him easily? And my little brother? Kain's too young to support himself, he'll die without me.

"You two make this quick," She says, and scurries off. Probably to make personal arrangements for Marvel and I's needs. I open the door with a shaky hand. The door opens with a _Creeeeeak! _and there, stand my two favorite boys, in this entire disgusting World. I impulsively throw myself at each of them while hot tears begin to pulse down my face. I wish I wasn't such an easy crier.

"Glimmer… please don't leave me…" Eli whispers against my ear. His tone breaks my heart, but I know staying isn't a possibility for me. I try to remain strong, for them.

"I have to go, you know that. You have to take care of Kain while I'm gone," I say. I feel like I can't clutch them tight enough. I can hear Kain's quiet sobs. I wonder why he's crying now, when he suggested that I'd be so good in the Games earlier this morning. He probably hadn't grasped the reality of all of it. That I might not come back to him.

"You have to come back, you're you. You have to," Kain says. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself while speaking to me. I bend down to reach his level. I can't promise anything now, but I have to keep my brother sane enough while I'm fighting.

"I'll fight for you, Kain. I promise you, I will come back," I don't know if that was a lie, or a real promise, but I am determined to return to him. Eli tightens his grip around my waist, and pulls me against him in one last hug. It may be my last time seeing him. I can feel the pot of emotions within me begin to boil over. A Capitol guard is knocking at the door impatiently.

"Hurry it up!" He says.

Suddenly, I wrap my arms around Eli's neck, and crush my lips against his. I know it's not enough, but it's the most I can give him while I'm fighting to live. He throws himself into the kiss, squeezing me so tightly I can find myself practically lost in his grasp. Kain doesn't look, and I'm grateful for that. I need this moment with Eli.

"Five more seconds," The guard on the other side of the door says. I can tell he's annoyed, and impatient. I pull away from Eli, and he stops me to leave one more, sweet little kiss on my lips. By now, tears are rushing down my face like a waterfall. My eyes must be red and puffy. I feel as horrible as I look.

"Keep Kain safe. I'll come back to you," I whisper. I plant a gentle kiss onto Kain's forehead, and exit the room. They can't witness the emotional outburst I'm about to go through; it'd only bring them more pain then they're already suffering.

"Right this way, Ms. Deaton," The guard instructs. The train station is at the back of the Town Hall, which is convenient for me, because at this moment I just want to be alone. Marvel has the same red-eyed, solemn look as I do. I realize I've never seen him upset.

"Marvel! Glimmer! You two, follow me. I can take it from here," She reassures the guard. He gives her a quick nod.

The train is impeccable, not a speck of dust or dirt lay on it. It's almost as white as my skin, but a shade lighter. I've never seen something so _clean. _Cyra leads us to the entrance of the train, where two doors are already opened for us. I feel like I'm now personal property of the Capitol. The second we enter, the doors close, and the train races off. District one is left behind us. Cyra shows us to a room with different tables, various foods nestled among them. The room is as white and clean as the exterior of the train. I can see Marvel is just as stunned as I am.

"Both of you are allowed to anything here. You can both freshen up, the bedrooms are down that hall. Meet me here in twenty minutes," Cyra orders. Once I'm given the opportunity, I make my way down to the secluded rooms. I rush into the first room I see, and slam the door with unnecessary force. I press my back up against the door of the room and fall to my knees. I'm stricken with tears. The weight of homesickness already hits me, and seems to paralyze me to the floor. The floor is made of some type of material I'm not familiar with. It's not wood or marble, but it's hard, and _cold. _I won't make it to the bed. My body shakes with sobs, and the anger of being obligated to do these pointless games make me pound my fist against the floor. It's not fair. Why _me? _I have a twelve year old brother to look after, I'm the only family he's got, for crying out loud. And now, I'll be slaughtered on television, and everyone I've ever known will watch.


End file.
